


The Forest

by zelda_zee



Series: Golden State [2]
Category: Lost
Genre: Alternate Universe, California, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A walk under the big trees. </p><p>Originally posted for the 2007 Lost Luau.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forest

They leave the bikes at the entrance to the park, a black Harley and a red Ducati, side by side, an incongruous pair, opposite in many ways. Jack thinks they look good together, as if their differences point up the advantages of each.

James is already leaning into the window of the kiosk, chatting with a flustered-looking middle-aged woman in the brown and green uniform of a park ranger. When he pulls back, Jack can see her rosy cheeks and he knows James has been working the charm, just for the hell of it, he guesses. There isn’t much that the ranger at the entrance to Armstrong Grove State Park can do for him.

“Keeping in practice?” Jack asks as James falls into step beside him.

James shrugs. “Got us a free map,” he says, handing it to Jack. “Woulda cost a dollar.”

It’s at least ten degrees cooler under the giant trees, and since it’s 90 in the sun that comes as a welcome relief. They’re both in tee-shirts, Jack in an old U2 shirt from a 1992 tour, James in another pure white tank, setting off his tanned arms and shoulders to sinful advantage.

“Why didn’t you wear those on the island?” Jack asks. “It would have improved the scenery significantly.”

The smile James gives him is one of a man who is more pleased than he feels he ought to be. “Sayid had the whole island stash of tanks, didn’t you notice?” Jack chuckles. “Seriously, he was one vain motherfucker. Knew he had the arms for it, I guess. I figured it’d be more than my life was worth to raid his stash, so I left them to him.”

“That was probably smart,” concedes Jack. He stops to look at an immense redwood, its trunk easily ten feet in diameter. James stands beside him and Jack can feel the heat rising off his body, the whisper-brush of fine hairs against his arm. “You look so hot,” Jack says quietly, just for James’ ears. “I can hardly keep my hands off you.”

James is still wearing that pleased grin. Jack is beginning to realize that making James smile is quickly becoming something of an obsession with him. As is making James want him, want to be touched and kissed and – he pulls his mind away from where it wants to go, because here comes a family of six, chattering happily as they approach. Jack takes a step back and they walk on down the path, a safe three feet of space between them.

“They really _are_ amazin',” James muses, craning his neck back to try to see the tops of the trees. “I gotta admit doc, your state has a few things that are pretty great.”

“Yeah?” challenges Jack. “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” James thinks for a moment. “I like L.A. All the craziness suits me just fine. And San Francisco’s cool, especially this one club in the Castro where I had the wildest night once - I’ll tell you ‘bout that someday when you’re bored. I like the desert and I like the ocean and I like these trees. Yessir,” he says, reaching out to lay his palm on the rough, red-hued trunk of one. “I like ‘em a lot. And then there’s this certain motorcycle-ridin’ ex-doctor,” he gives Jack a wink. “I guess he’s not so bad, once you get over the lousy first impression.”

Jack frowns at him through a smile. “Lousy first impression?!” he exclaims with mock incredulity.

James throws back his head and laughs and Jack can’t take his eyes from the long, muscular line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the inviting hollow just above the edge of his shirt. He’s caught in a beam of sunlight that’s snuck through the dense cover, and he looks so beautiful, happy in a way Jack never saw him on the island, and young despite the lines at the corners of his eyes, the thin streaks of white-blond hair sprinkled in with the gold that Jack knows are really gray.

James is looking at him, shaking his head fondly. “The worst possible. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Jack admits grudgingly. “It was pretty bad.”

They walk on through the trees, the redwood duff making the ground soft beneath their feet. Jack resists the urge to take James’ hand. This is all new, so new, and he doesn’t yet know if that would be allowed. Jack knows without a doubt that Sawyer would never have allowed it, but James…

It’s odd how James is but is not Sawyer. Jack can’t quite put his finger on the difference yet. It’s only been a day, after all. But the change was instantaneous. The moment he started calling Sawyer ‘James’, started seeing James and not Sawyer when he looked at him, something shifted and he doesn’t know if it was in James or in himself or in the both of them.

He looks over at James, who is reading an informational plaque at the side of the trail. They have time, he thinks, to figure that out. He doesn’t need all the answers today.

Jack goes to join him, wanting to know what has caught his interest, finds him reading about old growth and forest succession. James' arm is warm where it presses against his. Jack can smell the faint scent of sweat, masculine, clean-smelling. He moves a little closer to James, leaning into him, and somehow it doesn’t surprise him when he feels James’ hand slip into his.


End file.
